Prophecy
by Kadri
Summary: When the mystical armors are stripped of their powers... When both the mortal and nether realms are at stake... The Ronins have become absorbed with normal life. But as the first day of summer vacation dawns, normalcy comes to a crashing halt...
1. Prologue

A/N: This fic is subject to (minor) revisions whenever I get picky

Disclaimer: The Ronin Warriors—never owned them, never will.

* * *

_**Prophecy**_

Written by: Kadri

* * *

Prologue

* * *

It was a quiet, mid-afternoon day in late April. The air was pleasantly warm and only slightly humid, and overhead the cloudy gray skies were clearing to reveal the fresh, clean sort of blue that always appeared after a good spring rain. Just a hint of a breeze teased the leafy green canopy of the campus trees, languidly stirring the otherwise still air.

From his classroom on the second floor, Ryo Sanada had a bird's eye view of the glimmering greenery and marble courtyard below. He gazed out across the school grounds with a wistful sigh, his thoughts straying from the lesson to more interesting things. The weather was so perfect… What he wouldn't give to be out there on the practice field, tossing around a soccer ball with a few of his friends... The grass underfoot, the sun on his face...

"Mr. Sanada!" the history teacher snarled, slamming his hands down on Ryo's desk. "Would you care to repeat the last few things I've said for the class?"

Somewhat reluctantly, the raven-haired teenager drew his gaze from the alluring world outside the window to look up at Mr. Kibishii. He withheld another sigh—this time at the rude interruption of his happy daydream. A few of his classmates were hushing giggles behind their hands, while another snored away softly somewhere in the vicinity of desks behind him. He suddenly found himself fighting the urge to grin.

_Kibishii is most __**definitely**__ a snore._

But there was no way he could voice _that_ particular opinion out loud. At least, not when the teacher in question was breathing straight down his neck. "Excuse me?" he asked instead, his tone suspiciously innocent as he tried to banish the amusement from his voice.

"I _said_, 'Would you care to repeat the last few things I've said for the class?'" the teacher ground out slowly, looking, if possible, even more aggravated.

Ryo shifted in his seat, having the grace to look mildly uncomfortable. "Um... no, not really, sir."

Mr. Kibishii narrowed his eyes, folding his arms across his chest as he stared at his least favorite student with ever-growing dislike. "If memory serves me correctly, your final exam is rapidly approaching, Mr. Sanada. Unless you are just_ determined_ to fail my class, I suggest that you start paying very close attention to my lectures. It might even be intelligent," in sarcastic tones, "to take a few notes every now and then."

With those venomous parting words, he stalked away towards the back of the room. A few moments later there was yet another loud, telltale 'thwump' as his hands descended on some other poor, unsuspecting student's desk. The snoring Ryo had noticed earlier came to an abrupt stop, replaced with incoherent stuttering.

"_What?_ I'm awake, Mom, I _swear!_ ...wait a minute, where am I...?"

"And I shall _assume_," Mr. Kibishii said acidly "that you can't discuss today's lecture with me either, can you Mr. Masaki?"

There was a prolonged pause.

"Uhmm... huh?"

* * *

"Now tell me, the point of this is… what, exactly?" the teenage girl drawled, sarcasm creeping into her voice.

Her grandfather finished tying the blindfold over her eyes with gnarled brown hands, sighing. "I've already explained the concept of this exercise to you, Rael. Twice. Weren't you listening the first two times?" he inquired in an overly patient tone, raising one bushy eyebrow at her taller form.

Rael straightened with a grimace, directing her blind scowl towards the sound of his voice. He was a short old man, nearing his mid-sixties, with a bald head and bronzed, weathered skin that was very similar to tough old leather. Thick white eyebrows dictated his every expression, topping a set of piercing steel-blue eyes that seemed to get sharper with age. Even though she had seven inches on him, Rael would be the first to admit that her grandfather could cut an imposing figure when he put his crotchety old mind to it.

"Pops, I was listening," she growled in annoyance, scuffing the toes of her beat-up Keds into the hard dirt. "I get the whole 'concept' thing. What I'd like to know is why you're making _me _practice it."

Hinoshi simply shook his head and thrust a slender wooden pole into her hands; his granddaughter frequently had the tendencies of a terrier, taking hold of a question or idea and then refusing to let it go. Rather than giving her the answers she wanted, he circled around her impatient form, twirling his own pole in one hand. After a moment, he poked at the back of her knees.

"Feet apart, Missy. Find your balance and raise those arms; I won't have you half-assing this exercise just because you don't know why you're doing it!" he ordered, in 'the-tone-that-would-be-obeyed.'

Rael sighed in exasperation and bit back a smart remark as her body automatically shifted into the new position—a habit after years of obeying 'The Voice'. She spread her hands apart on the pole and focused on her breathing, forcing herself to relax.

"Good," her grandfather said approvingly as he inspected her posture with a critical eye. "It looks like you've been practicing after all. Now, I'm going to move around a bit. I want you to keep your ears open and stay focused for the next few moments, so you'll know what to expect."

She growled something indiscernible under her breath, but obediently stood still and waited for his next move. Hinoshi circled her again, very slowly, his feet barely scraping the ground. In the next instant, he lashed out with his pole. The wood whistled past her shoulder as it cut through the open air. Rael twitched as the air beside her shifted, her eyes straining to see past the cloth blindfold.

"In the next moment, I will attack you," Hinoshi said evenly. "I want you listen and anticipate where my strikes will be, then counter them. Are you ready?"

Without waiting for a reply the old man pivoted, whipping his practice pole around towards her back. Rael tensed and yanked her own pole up to protect the side of her face, flinching when he struck the small of her back instead.

"You aren't listening. Pay attention!"

"Easier said that done, thank you!" she retorted in frustration. "I've never done this before!"

He swung a second time; she missed the block and he connected with her upper arm. "It's never stopped you before," Hinoshi replied mercilessly, continuing the assault with a speed that belied his elderly appearance.

"Well gee, why don't I blindfold _**you**_ and whack at _**you**_with a broomstick, then?"

He grinned. His next blow was aimed straight at her knees when her pole suddenly appeared out of nowhere, foiling the attack.

"Good. Now we're getting somewhere. _Again!_"

"OW!"

"_Again!"_

Rael barely missed the following strike, picking up a new bruise across her shins, but she managed to block his next move, and then the next. The pair began to pick up speed, moving across the dirt towards the house as Rael both blocked and evaded her grandfather's attacks with growing accuracy.

Without warning, she parried and lunged at Hinoshi through the slight opening. The elderly man ducked under her unexpected attack and countered, using a combination that effectively knocked her feet out from under her and sent the practice weapon flying out of her hands. Rael gave a grunt of dismay as she toppled backwards, landing on her butt in the dirt. She tugged the blindfold from her face with a grimace, looking up into Hinoshi's twinkling eyes. She couldn't help the rueful smile that tugged at her lips.

"Okay Pops, you got me."

He chuckled at her good-natured resignation to this latest defeat. "You need to improve your concentration a bit. You'll get there eventually—you're learning."

"Slowly. I'm learning _very _slowly," she grumbled back with a little sigh. Turning her head away, she whistled a short, cheerful note. "Dragon! C'mere boy!"

Rael brushed her light brown hair over her shoulders, grinning as a very large black dog catapulted itself from their front porch and bounded over. The Labrador panted happily as she rubbed her hands over his floppy ears, running her fingers through his silky fur with a rare, affectionate smile. The overgrown puppy woofed and leaned over, washing her face with a great show of enthusiasm. She laughed and raised her arms to fend off the dog slobber.

"Ack, no! Dog drool!"

Hinoshi rolled his eyes heavenward, muttering, "That's not a dog, that's a small horse…"

"…who is in serious need of some _strong_ breath mints," Rael added with an amused look, scouring the ground beside her for sticks that she and Dragon could play 'fetch' with. She picked up a particularly study one, studying it for a moment. When it passed her inspection, she waved it in front of Dragon's grinning face and then hurled it across the yard, chuckling as the dog tore off in hot pursuit. "So, why did you want to play with sticks today, Pops?"

Her grandfather froze in mid-smile and his gaze flitted uneasily towards the line of trees at the edge of their property. Rael followed his stare, unnerved by the intensity in his eyes, but she couldn't see anything out of the ordinary peering back at them from the shadows. Dragon trotted back to them, his tail proudly erect as he dropped the retrieved stick in the dirt by her hand. She picked it up, smiling to hide her wariness, and threw it even further out into the yard.

"Last night... I had a premonition," Hinoshi began quietly. "Very soon now our world will be in grave peril. It has already begun. There is going to be a terrible battle between the forces of good and evil. We will be drawn into the chaos to come. I can't change that... but I fear I may not be here to guide you when the time comes. So you must be prepared."

Rael stared at him for a long moment, weighing his prediction in her mind. Finally she gave a derisive snort of disbelief. "Premonition? Pops, come on... you know I don't believe in that kind of thing. You probably just had a bad dream or something. I've _told_ you not to eat weird things right before you go to bed."

Hinoshi's eyebrows came together with an audible 'click'. He drew himself up to his full four feet and eleven inches, bearing down on his granddaughter with a ferocious scowl. "You listen to me youngster. I may be old, but I still know what's what. There is a great battle brewing and we must be prepared for it. Fate pays no attention to whether _**you**_ believe or not. I _refuse_ to be negligent in my duties! If only to appease me, stay on your guard for the next few months."

Rael frowned, but nodded rather than disagree with him. "Okay, I'll keep my eyes open," she promised, knowing that he waited for a response. She'd learned from the past that such disagreements always ended with the same two results over and over again: Pops winning, and her walking away with the most insufferable headache known to mankind. Better to just concede early and avoid the brain trauma altogether.

Hinoshi harrumphed and turned to walk back towards their modest little house, deciding to let the subject rest. "I think it's time for tea."

Dragon dropped the slobbery stick in her lap and she wrinkled her nose at it, still preoccupied with her grandfather's seriousness. Impatient, the dog pranced in front of her, drawing a laugh; he still wanted to play. She scratched his ears, confiding in her four-legged companion with an exasperated smile, "He's gone off on another weird prediction, Dragon. And the annoying this is, when he says something's going to happen something usually _does._ But this time it's a lot stranger than his usual "beware of skunks and tall trees this weekend'. I don't know if I should believe him or just laugh it off. I mean, he was dead serious. What d'you think boy? Has he totally lost it this time?"

The dog whined at her, cocking his head to one side. Rael grinned and shook her head. "Yeah, I don't know either."

She drew her arm back, throwing the stick as far out into the yard as she could. Watching him gallop off with an excited yip, she pushed herself to her feet and dusted off her rump with both hands, then looked up to see if Dragon had captured the stick yet. What she saw left her momentarily speechless.

Dragon stood over the fallen stick, his attention locked on something within the darkness of the trees. Hackles raised and teeth bared in feral warning, he could obviously see _something_... but _what_, she couldn't tell. A moment later the Labrador charged into the forest, barking his head off and leaving Rael standing there with her mouth hanging open.

"_Hey!_ Dragon! Come back here!" she shouted, wondering what had gotten into her happy-go-lucky companion. She shook her head, muttering to herself, "He must've seen a squirrel or something... Probably..."

_He'll come back when he gets tired of chasing things that can climb trees,_ Rael thought, slowly regaining her humor. _Or when he gets hungry._

With a snort, she headed towards their house.

* * *

Upon seeing the very large black dog barreling towards him at full speed, the man cursed under his breath and drew away from the edge of the trees. He brushed a few stray leaves from his shoulders, mulling over what he'd just witnessed in the clearing.

_Obviously the old man isn't as washed-up as I thought he would be,_ he mused, brushing strands of jet-black hair out of his eyes. The hood of his dark gray cloak fell away, revealing troubled blue-gray eyes set in a lean face. A dappled ray of light pierced the thick canopy of trees, illuminating a two-inch scar across his right cheekbone. _Though I still doubt that he'd pose any great threat to us._

There was a noisy commotion in the brush just as he turned to go, and he was forced to stop short as he found himself face-to-face with Dragon. The Labrador growled low in his throat, deep brown eyes glinting dangerously in the flickering sunlight. The dark-haired man scowled and waved for the dog to move aside.

"Out of my way," he ordered harshly.

Dragon remained rooted to the ground, his lips curled back in a snarl. The man waited a moment longer, but it quickly became apparent that the dog was going nowhere unless attached to him by the teeth. He blew out a disgusted breath and made an abrupt gesture with one hand. Dragon lunged for him, only to pass through empty air; the man was gone.

He sniffed around the ground for a few minutes, whining a bit as he assured himself that the danger had gone—for the time being, at least. After a few more moments of inspection, Dragon turned and trotted home without a backward glance.

* * *

"_Mister Sanada!"_

Ryo jerked out of his stupor, blinking repeatedly to clear away the hazy, faraway look from his blue eyes. Refocusing on his surroundings, he found himself almost nose to nose with an incredibly irate history teacher and nearly fell out of his chair. The man's sallow face was quickly turning chartreuse with outrage and his beady black eyes had narrowed to tiny slits. Ryo attempted to look innocent, wondering if Mr. Kibishii was going to start breathing fire at him.

"What did I tell you earlier about paying attention?" the teacher growled out in a very quiet voice. "Perhaps you need a little motivation. Let me make myself _perfectly_ clear—if I catch you daydreaming or nodding off in my class _one _more time, I'll personally see to it that you have detention all the way up to your summer vacation!"

Wide-eyed with horror, Ryo gave a meek nod of understanding; he knew that Mr. Kibishii would make good on his threat, and he really preferred not to spend a month and a half stuck in detention with the man. "Yes, sir."

The teacher glared at him for several more moments before stepping back and returning to a very monotone lecture. He was relating something about the feudal era of Japan to their lesson, but Ryo had already tuned him out again. Once freed from Kibishii's evil death glare, he breathed out a sigh of relief and slunk low in his chair, pretending to stare at the text in his history book as he tried to refocus his mind. After a few minutes of intense concentration, he'd succeeded in giving himself a terrible headache but had accomplished little else.

_I could've __**sworn**__ I sensed something earlier... Damn Kibishii! _he thought in irritation, running his hands across the smooth, polished surface of his desk in an absent manner. _I'm sure I didn't just imagine it!_

Ryo growled to himself softly as he reoriented his thoughts, propping his chin up on one hand and resolving to wait until after school when he could question his friends. While the class drug on, he satisfied himself with staring at the clock, ticking off the minutes in his head as they slowly slipped away.

* * *

As fate would have it, Ryo ended up waiting even longer than usual that warm afternoon. Fifteen minutes after the final bell, he was still idling on the white steps of Han'a High School, debating which of his friends would walk through the doors first. Sage, Rowen, and Kento each had gym as their final class of the day and he had a sneaking suspicion that they were being held up in a long line for the shower. During his own gym period he'd discovered that at least half of the bath facilities in the men's locker room weren't in working order thanks to a couple of jokers and a large can of rubber cement. It'd taken him a little longer to remember where Cye was, but their lunchtime conversation quickly returned to him—Cye was busy helping the cooking club prepare for their end-of-the-year bake sale, just as he had the year before.

Kento poked his head through the front door and spotted Ryo reclining on the stairs. He grinned. "Hey there, buddy, whatcha still doing hanging around here?"

"Just waiting on you guys, that's all," Ryo replied with an easy smile as the plump boy clambered down onto the step above him. "I had something I wanted to ask before everybody headed home for the day."

Kento ran a hand through his damp, ashy-black hair. He didn't need to ask Ryo what was on his mind—he already had a pretty good idea. "Yeah, I thought you might. Sage and Rowen had to make a locker stop, but they should be coming out this way any time now. Cye may take some waiting on though. Those members of the cooking club are raving lunatics—when I passed the Home Ec. Room a few minutes ago they were screaming something about muffins and chocolate cupcakes."

"Mm... Did someone say 'chocolate cupcakes'?" came Rowen's cheerful voice from behind them. "I'm_ starving!_"

He and Sage had pushed open the school's double doors, stepping out into the warm, sunlit afternoon air. Both of them were carting their book bags and various homework amenities, and for some _strange_ reason Rowen had a large, yellow rubber ducky tucked beneath one arm. Ryo stared at it for a moment, then raised his eyebrow at the blue-haired boy in an unspoken question.

"He found it in one of the broken showers and no one knew who it belonged to," Sage replied, an amused look gracing his normally serious face. "And you know Rowen—the weirder, the better. So now he's toting around a duck."

Rowen grinned sheepishly, lifting his shoulders up in a half-shrug. "What? You can't tell me that a giant rubber ducky isn't funny. Look, it even squeaks!" He proceeded to squeeze it, proving that his new toy did indeed make the infamous squeaky rubber ducky noise.

Ryo snorted. "I don't know which is weirder Ro—you, or that duck."

"I vote for Rowen, hands down," Sage remarked instantly, pushing his blonde hair back with a smirk.

"Yes, definitely Rowen," Kento agreed, nodding wisely. He laughed and covered his head with his hands as the taller boy threw a crumpled paper ball at him. "Aw come on man, even _you _admit you're weird."

Their amusement was interrupted by a softly accented voice. "Who's weird?"

Cye emerged from the school with his book bag in one hand and a stack of cookbooks in the other, his blue, flour-splotched apron slung over one arm. He smiled at his friends, wiping a smear of cake batter off of his cheek with the corner of the apron. Then he spotted the duck.

"Rowen...?"

The blue-haired boy turned towards him, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Yes Cye?"

"Where in bloody hell did you get that thing?"

Kento grinned. "He found it in the shower after gym. Somebody left it lying around, so he decided he needed a new pet and adopted it on the spot."

As the little auburn-haired boy rolled his eyes skyward at their blue-headed friend's latest antics, Ryo groaned and dragged himself to his feet, offering Kento a hand up. "Are we all here now?"

"Everyone present and accounted for, _sir_!" Rowen responded instantly, throwing Ryo a smart salute. The ducky slipped out of his grasp, bouncing off the concrete sidewalk with an indignant squeak.

Sage bent to retrieve it, raising an eyebrow as Ryo bopped his friend over the head with his history book for being silly. "So Ryo, what's going on? I'm sure you didn't stay half an hour after school just for the hell of it."

"Well, now that you mention it, there's something I wanted to ask you guys," Ryo admitted, scratching the back of his neck. "I was in Kibishii's class earlier, and about halfway through the period I could've _sworn_ I sensed something... but then the old windbag distracted me and I lost my concentration. Did any of you—?" He trailed off, looking around the circle at the other four boys.

Everyone exchanged uneasy looks. It was the warrior of light who finally replied.

"I felt something," Sage said, handing the rubber ducky over to its owner. "I'm not sure _what_, though. To be honest, I didn't think much of it at the time."

Rowen nodded, clutching his new favorite toy. "You know, now that you mention it, I think I felt something too. It was very faint—it can't have been inside the city, whatever it was."

"It went away so quickly," Cye added in his own quiet voice. "I thought it was my imagination playing dirty tricks on me. Could the Dynasty have returned?"

Ryo rubbed his forehead and shook his head with a sigh. "Whatever this was, I don't think the Dynasty is involved. Talpa is dead, and the Dynasty died with him. This was something different—something else altogether. But here's the thing that bothers me: if there's a problem in the nether realm, Kayura and the Warlords would've tried to contact us, right? So far, that hasn't happened."

"Then what are we gonna do about this, Ryo?" Kento cracked his knuckles suggestively.

Rowen brushed still-damp hair out of his eyes, glancing at Ryo before opening his mouth to speak. "I'm afraid there's not much we can do, Kento. We don't know who—or what—that presence belonged to, or why it surfaced today. Plus, now that it's gone we have no way of tracking it. We don't even know where to _look_."

"You hit the nail on the head Ro, thanks," Ryo said, a frown creasing his forehead. "I'm not much for waiting, but it looks like our only option at this point. We may not know where they are right now, but the minute they come _back_..."

"We'll know, and we can find them," Sage finished coolly, nodding with approval. "Not the best solution, but at the moment I can't think of anything better. Unless someone has an alternative they'd like to offer?" He glanced around.

The other boys traded glances, but no one spoke up. Kento fumed for a few moments, but finally nodded in agreement. "Man, I hate waiting!" he groused. "It sucks!"

Cye chuckled, patting him on the back sympathetically; none of them enjoyed waiting for something to happen. Especially when they weren't sure what _would_ happen when the time came. Then another thought occurred to him.

"Hey guys, are we still meeting at _Mamma Fuan's_ tonight for dinner?"

There was a murmur of agreement as they looked at one another for confirmation and suddenly Kento found his outlook on life rapidly improving; the promise of good food _always_ cheered him up, especially when it was Chinese food from his family's restaurant. Sure, he would have to remind his mother that everyone was coming by for dinner, but he wasn't worried—Mamma Fuan was always happy to see his friends.

After a brief exchange of goodbyes, Cye and Kento waved and set off down the sidewalk together, deeply involved in a discussion about which dish Cye would try at dinner later on. Sage and Rowen hoisted their schoolwork, preparing to follow suit, but Ryo grabbed hold of Rowen's sleeve.

"Hey Ro, would you mind helping me study for my history exam later?"

The blue-haired boy blinked, then gave Ryo a raised-eyebrow stare; he knew there was some discord between Ryo and his rather unpopular history teacher. "Is Kibishii still giving you problems?" Rowen asked with a bit of a scowl.

"Eh, let's just say that I'm running low on luck today. He caught me not paying attention to his lecture twice this afternoon, and now he's threatening me with detention until the end of term if he catches me at it again," Ryo grumbled. "And in the meantime, he's trying to figure out the best way to fail me."

Rowen slung an arm over the dark-haired boy's shoulders, grinning. He loved a good challenge, especially when it involved foiling one of their teachers' evil plans. "Don't worry Ryo, I'll tutor you. Your exam grade will be so high that he won't _dare _fail you."

Ryo breathed a sigh of relief. "Thanks, man. I really owe you."

"Psh. No you don't. This is part of what friends are for—staying awake until all hours of the night… helping each other study to show up pissy, annoying teachers that have it in for us…"

"I'll remember that," Ryo said, flashing Rowen an amused grin. "Now, I better head home before Gram decides to bring out Whiteblaze and come looking for me."

Sage raised his eyebrows. "The scary thing is... I can actually see her doing that. And as friendly as Whiteblaze is, I don't think the police will appreciate a giant white tiger walking down the middle of the sidewalk."

Ryo winced. "Exactly. So I'll see you guys at _Mamma Fuan's _tonight."

Rowen and Sage waved as the dark-haired boy quickly turned and trotted off in the opposite direction, then turned and started walking down the sidewalk together, heading off towards their own respective houses. It had been a long day.

"Rowen?" The blonde was grinning.

"Yes Sage?"

"You're a really odd duck, you know that?"

"Squeak!"

* * *

_Read and review, please._


	2. Chapter One

A/N: This fic is subject to (minor) revisions whenever I get picky.

Disclaimer: The Ronin Warriors—never owned them, never will.

* * *

_**Prophecy**_

Written by: Kadri

* * *

Chapter One - Arrival

* * *

The nether realm had always been a heated, furiously chaotic world, created a little over one thousand years ago in order to contain the great evils that once wreaked havoc on the mortal realm. Hatred, bloodlust, greed, insanity, those black souls who refused to be saved; all of them forced to inhabit one small realm, tearing each other apart, or living an eternity in their own hellish exile. 

The realm's sense of nature was a law unto itself, and operated above all but the smallest, most twisted levels of comprehension. Mutant creatures had emerged from the depths of carnivorous forests thought to be uninhabitable, while others lay in wait beneath dark, noxious lakes of polluted water or bubbling acid, only revealing themselves to those foolish enough to get too close. When battles broke out in the flatlands, the clouds overhead would boil in wicked anticipation, and the skies would burn violent shades of red and orange. A thirst for blood would permeate the air, infecting everything it touched and leaving masses of dead in its wake. Elsewhere, the sky might turn as black as the deepest, darkest pit of despair, and the temperatures would drop below zero as bitter winds swept ruthlessly over the cold, hard ground.

Cale laid his bare hands against the cold windowsill, peering out at the sprawling lands that lay before him without actually seeing them. The wind howled, circling the tower as it pushed and pulled at the stone foundation, but the building remained tall and defiant–much like the three men quietly occupying it.

"Cale, don't lean out so far, lest you fall out," an amused voice hissed at his back, slicing through the silence abruptly.

"It _is _a dreadfully long way to the bottom, you know," agreed a second deeper, more melodical voice.

The dark-haired man withdrew from his post at the window, turning slowly to favor his smiling companions with an annoyed glare. The hood of his heavy cloak had been pushed back from his head, and his blue-black hair was tousled after its encounter with the icy winds. His face was chapped and red from the cold, but it didn't trouble him; they all bore marks of the harsh weather outside.

With a scowl, Cale noted that the inside of the room was not much warmer than the air outside, even though there were four torches burning fiercely at spaced intervals on the walls. The tower had been constructed with heavy blocks of stone, and was designed to withstand the harshest of weather and circumstance; however, it was _not_ built to be comfortable. But that was no more than to be expected from their predecessor, the demon emperor Talpa.

"Where is Kayura?" he asked them irritably, huddling into the folds of his cloak and looking back towards the window.

Dais merely shrugged, giving him a look of long-suffering patience before replying in his usual calm manner, "She said that she had something to take care of, and that she'd meet us here when she was finished."

A blast of freezing wind assaulted them from the open window, tearing at their warm clothes as if actively seeking out openings that might allow the chill from the air to sink deep into their skin. Sekhmet hissed and pulled his own cloak tight against the invasion; how he _hated_ the cold.

"If that blasted woman takes any longer in coming, we'll become ice statues," he snapped at Dais, before rounding his bad temper on Cale. "And will you shut that thrice-damned window? It's freezing in here as it is!"

Cale glowered at his friend for a moment before obligingly reaching to pull the glass closed, his fingers numb and clumsy as they fumbled with the latch. As it slipped into place, a musical chime echoed softly from the stairwell, rousing them from their thoughts. Moments later, Lady Kayura stepped gracefully across the threshold and into the wintry room, brushing bits of ice and snow from her shoulders and hair. One delicate white hand was curled around the golden staff of the Ancients, and as she shook away the snow its metal rings chimed again, emitting a familiar and soothing sound.

"Fear not, my fellow icicles, for I would thaw you each out in due time," she greeted the shivering trio of Warlords, looking amused.

Dais regarded her with a raised eyebrow, brushing strands of long, silvery hair away from his face to reveal his leather eye patch. Though his good eye was sharp, he merely asked in a pleasant tone, "So, Kayura, what information have you been gathering today?"

She met his gaze, the merriment fading from her eyes. "It's not good news, I can tell you that much," she replied honestly, almost regretful. The priestess straightened her cloak briskly and strode across the tower floor to address alone wooden table someone had shoved mercilessly against one wall, giving it a serious look of contemplation. Stretched across the table's rough, badly scarred surface was a faded, yellowing map of the nether realm, its edges held down by a silver candle holder and a small, heavy dagger.

Kayura turned away from the map for a moment, beckoning the Warlords closer. Huddled together, the four of them bent over the table to peer at the map's contents. Wordlessly, she stretched out one hand to tap a dark, grayish area near the top of the paper.

"Are the three of you familiar with a place called Shadow Haven?" she asked softly.

The three men traded uncomfortable looks, the furious shrieks of the wind outside underscoring their sudden silence. Shadow Haven, also called the "Forest of Shadows," was a large expanse of dense forest that stretched across the land for over a hundred miles, nearly a two-week journey due north of their castle. There, the sky was a constant swirl of black and dark gray clouds, and it was said that unimaginable evils roamed in the night-like forests, searching for those unwary souls who found themselves lost within. Few traveled there willingly, and those who ventured to such a place never returned.

Their lord and master, Talpa, had brought Shadow Haven to their attention almost two centuries ago. Information had been scarce at the time, but the demon priests employed by the evil emperor had observed unusual amounts of dark energy being given off by something deep within the forest. For the duration of those two centuries, there would be sudden, periodic surges of power from Shadow Haven, but it was never investigated further. Already entrenched in his own evil ambitions of invading the mortal realm and enslaving all of humanity, Talpa could spare neither the time nor the strength to bother with the outerreaches of a realm he already controlled.

"I haven't thought about that place since Talpa and the old Dynasty fell to the Ronins, two years ago," Dais muttered, frowning to himself.

"Well, we've been kind of busy," Sekhmet shrugged, rubbing his frigid hands together in the hope of keeping warm. "Ever since we returned to this God-forsaken realm, we've had to struggle to keep this demon and that from seizing Talpa's old throne and becoming the next 'evil emperor.'"

Cale was quiet, flexing his fingers a few times before crossing his arms beneath his thick black cloak. As the only ex-Dark Warlord whose power existed solely within the boundary of shadows, the hint that Shadow Haven could be their next problem made him particularly uneasy. The sky above the castle had been growing increasingly dark over the past six months, and the temperatures had plummeted in response. Even worse, a strange power was slowly filling the air, which grew stronger with each passing week. It crept through the windows and doors; slid past spells and barriers; oozing over his clothes until it found bare skin, making the Warlord of Darkness feel slimy and tainted.

Shuddering at the sensation that made his skin crawl in constant revulsion, Cale wondered if his companions could feel the same thing. He looked at Kayura, shivering, and voiced the question they were all waiting for:

"_Why _do we need to be familiar with Shadow Haven?"

"Do you recall all of those power surges over the past two hundred years?" Kayura responded, looking over at Cale with narrowed eyes. "Well, I've found out what's been making them. Or rather, _who_."

"You mean there's actually a _person_ behind them?" Sekhmet sounded troubled. From what little information he did have on them, he knew that those sudden flares of magic were incredibly powerful; it would require someone equally strong to control them.

The priestess sighed. "Unfortunately, yes. From what my sources have told me, his name is Damagi Arbalyn, a practitioner of shadow magic. I'm told that he's been a prisoner of the nether realm for almost a thousand years, and that he's been using his time here to become even stronger. Those pulses of energy over Shadow Haven are his doing."

"Great, so he's not only older than Talpa, he's also a lot stronger," Sekhmet said, sarcasm dripping from every word. "Anything else you'd like to tell us, while you're at it?"

Kayura gave the Warlord of Venom a particularly withering look, her staff chiming in musical agitation. "Apparently, this mage has been living in the Forest of Shadows for some time now, collecting quite a few followers over the centuries," she continued. "While we've spent the last two years dealing with rebellions and assassination attempts, Damagi has been secretly amassing his forces. I'm not sure what his plans are as of yet, but it's clear that he's planning to take a shot at Talpa's old throne in the process. I expect they will come knocking at our gates–armed to the teeth, naturally–within a fortnight or so."

"Well, isn't this lovely news?" Cale growled, his voice laden with barely controlled disgust.

"Oh, it's simply music to my ears," drawled a frosty voice from behind them. "Wrong, of course, but it still sounds perfectly wonderful."

Cale, Sekhmet, and Kayura whirled around, nearly upsetting the table in their haste. The rings of the Ancient's staff sounded out several sweet, haunting notes as they fell back into place, which masked the rustle of Dais's cloak as he slowly turned to face the intruder as well.

"What are _you _doing here?" Cale and Sekhmet spat out in a simultaneous display of dismay and annoyance.

Their most unwelcome guest stood beside the darkened doorway, leaning casually against the cold stone wall as he observed their huddled group, and looking for all the world like he belonged there. Piercing, ice blue eyes swept over them critically, as a familiar, arrogant half-smirk formed on thin, pale lips. His fair skin was smooth and unmarred, and he kept his blue-black hair tied neatly at the nape of his neck. His vain face, familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time, was one none of them ever expected to see again.

"Yes, what _are_ you doing here, Zandri?" Dais asked softly, raising an eyebrow.

The man waved off the question with one hand, dismissing it airily. His cold face was the picture of innocence, reflected in his prim tenor voice. "What's wrong? Can't I drop by every now and then to see my old friends?"

"Only one problem with that," Sekhmet retorted, narrowing his beady eyes in suspicion. "We aren't your friends."

Zandri reached into his pocket, fishing out a small, ice-like frosty blue cube. He held it up, examining it briefly, then flashed Sekhmet a predatorial grin. "I do believe you're right–we _aren't_ friends. So I trust you won't take this… personally."

He threw the cube at their feet, smiling unpleasantly as it shattered against the hard stones of the floor, releasing a pale, smoky mist that bubbled up from the broken pieces and swirled eagerly around Kayura and the Warlords. Coughing, they covered their mouths and noses with their cloaks, but the mist clung to them, seeping through their clothing and into their bare skin as the rest seemed to dissolve in the air.

"What in the hell was that!" Cale demanded when the last of the mist had disappeared.

Zandri's lips twisted in an ugly smile. "Oh, just a little gift from Damagi... to you, and to those little Ronin brats in the mortal realm."

"And just what do the Ronins have to do with anything?" Dais asked quietly, shifting his hands beneath his cloak.

"Oh, you won't be around long enough to worry about _that_, I assure you," came the snide reply.

Kayura narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on the Ancient's staff as it began to shine with a soft gold light. So far, Zandri seemed to think he was the one in control. It was about time someone rectified that cocky little attitude of his. On the walls, the dying torches roared to ferocious life, responding to the staff's growing energy. White-hot flames licked at the ceiling, leaving perfect chrysanthemum scorches in their wake.

Zandri glanced at the priestess, an infuriating smirk settled on his lips again. When he spoke, his voice was filled with dark pleasure. "So you want to put up a fight before I kill you? How quaint."

She brought the staff up, leveling it with his upper chest without batting an eye. "I do believe you've just overstayed your welcome. Get out."

The cold, elegant man brought one hand up to his heart, a look of woe crossing his face. With dramatics that would make a player proud, he proclaimed in a distraught tone, "I'm crushed, milady! Positively _heartbroken_! I made such a long and perilous journey to see my old friends, only to be heartlessly rejected upon arrival."

He turned to the door, placing his hand on the wall as if too overcome with grief to stand. In an instant, the window shattered, showering everyone with broken glass as the wind invaded the room with a triumphant shriek. As the power flow was interrupted, the lively torches flickered, then went out completely, leaving the room dim and even colder than before. The map was ripped out from under the candleholder and soared across the room, while the candleholder itself toppled to the floor with a loud clang. Momentarily distracted by the exploding glass, neither Kayura nor the Warlords realized what Zandri had done until Dais voiced a shout:

"_Get back!"_

The place on the wall where Zandri had rested his hand was covered in a thick layer of silvery-blue ice, which was quickly spreading to encase most of the wall and floor. Dais and Sekhmet were the first to be trapped, the crystal ice expanding until it had frozen their feet to the stone underfoot. It soon spread to where Kayura and Cale had stumbled back, securing their feet first, and then climbing to waist height, making it impossible to even bend. The priestess tightened her grip on the Ancient's staff, trying to pull it from the icy prison without success. It was at that moment that Sekhmet came to fully understand the seriousness of their situation.

"What the hell is going on! I can't summon my sub armor!"

"_Shit!"_ Cale thrashed against the freezing restraints, seeking someway–_any_ way–to break free, but the ice held fast.

"There's no way to escape, so stop wasting your strength," the ice mage informed his captives, his voice as unconcerned as someone discussing the weather over cups of afternoon tea. "Never fear–your deaths will be swift."

Dais stared at the ice that had so effectively frozen him in place, thoughts moving through his head in rapid, desperate succession. His hands were still obscured beneath his cloak, and he sought out the hidden pocket sewn into its interior with deft fingertips, delving inside. He closed his fingers around the cold hilt of the dagger he'd pocketed earlier, which he'd managed to slip from its sheath as he turned to face Zandri before, and silently weighed his options. They were limited. He could pray to whatever gods might be listening and hope that his companions would find a quick solution, he could lie down like a dog and let an annoying, self-important asshole kill him, or he could try his luck with the dagger.

His good eye snapped up to glare at Zandri, his mind still racing. A smile was playing across the mage's haughty face, and he was obviously enjoying the sight of his prey struggling and helpless before him. Rage flooded through Dais's veins, the raw fury warming him to the point that he didn't even notice that he was still encased in ice from the waist down. He and his friends were _not _play toys, and he would be damned if he went down without putting up a fight.

"Armor or not..." he muttered to himself, withdrawing the dagger from the folds of his cloak while Zandri's attention was focused on Cale's and Sekhmet's struggles. He had one shot. "Please, hit."

The blade flew from his hand, and time seemed to slow down. Dais clenched his fists, unable to tear his gaze away from the terrible scene that was unfolding before him. Almost like a dream, he watched Zandri's head turn, his mouth forming some archaic word of power. A sheen of silver lit up the air a split-second later, and Dais's final hope collided with an icy barrier spell, to be sent clattering to the floor. All eyes were on the dagger, watching as it came to rest near the toe of one of Zandri's leather boots. The ice mage looked from the glimmering blade to Dais, the humor slowly returning to his eyes.

"Not bad. You _almost _had me," he sneered, ugly with triumph. "Perhaps I should kill you last, so you can watch as your friends die... while wallowing in the fact that you _almost_ stopped me. But not quite."

Tiny ice crystals gleamed in the cold air around him, slowly growing and reshaping themselves as they fed off of his magic. Kayura watched their slow transformation into long, sharpened spears of ice, and it began to dawn on her exactly _how_ Zandri intended to kill them. Her stomach rolled, clearly wishing she _hadn't _made such a realization, and she tugged a little harder at the Ancient's staff, which was almost completely engulfed in the ice. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. There was no way they could die like this–_no_! There _had_ to be something she could do!

_Do not worry, Kayura, _came a husky, hauntingly familiar voice. It was so close to her ear that her eyes actually snapped open and she turned her head to stare at the empty space beside her. The Ancient's staff was growing warm within her frozen grasp, her palms tingling from the sudden change in temperature. For some reason, she was beginning to feel very calm.

Zandri was oblivious to the subtle change in the room's atmosphere, lost in his own sense of power as ice magic bloomed in the air around him. He extended a hand, pointing one of his long, bony white fingers at Kayura.

"Die."

A handful of the mage's newly formed ice spears surged forward, hurtling towards the priestess with the bloody intent of a messy impalement. The mystical staff blazed to life in her hands, just as a whirlwind of snow, ice, and broken glass erupted in the center of the room, capturing Zandri's spears within its churning depths. From the other side of the vortex, they could hear an outraged screech from their tormentor as he lost sight of his quarry, but it was quickly drowned out in the rising gale.

A portal yawned widely in the wall behind them, opening up a second escape route from the hellish tower room, and the four glanced down at themselves; they had been freed from Zandri's icy imprisonment spell. Kayura's gaze swept back to the darkening whirlwind that protected them, and her eyes widened when she saw a flash of long red hair. As if sensing her shock, there came a warm, familiar chuckle from within the vortex of debris and magic.

_Go,_ said the voice of Anubis, in tones of fond exasperation. _The Ronins will be waiting for you at the other end._

And without waiting for them to reply, the winds suddenly changed direction, shoving the dazed priestess and the three warriors through the open portal and into a dark, dream-like oblivion.

* * *

It was the first day of summer vacation, and the weather was slow and lazy–a rather apt reflection of the attitude of students all over the city. It was pleasantly warm, with just a slight breeze that stirred the air and playfully ruffled the viridian treetops, sweeping the fresh, sweet scent of wildflowers through the air. The skies were the palest of summer blues, smudged with wisps of white cloud fluff and scorched by the blazing golden sun; while beneath the vast array of greenery lay the cool, dappled shade of mid-morning. The grass was spiky and long; it could use a once-over with the trusty old lawnmower–but that could be put off for a few more days… 

Sage lay sprawled amid the soft grassy shadows of the peerless oak, which had graced the lawn of the Koji mansion for as long as anyone could remember. Drifting in and out of a light doze, he listened to the birds as they peeped and chattered to one another in the branches above, silently reveling in the beautiful calm that surrounded everything. His clothes–usually practical and clean-cut–seemed to mirror his comfortable state of mind: a soft, white cotton t-shirt and his favorite pair of faded denims, which had already made a few more trips through the washing machine than he cared to remember. The muted sounds of the front door being opened, then closed a moment later, and the crunch of approaching footsteps roused the blonde from his daze. He cracked one violet eye open and glanced toward the gravel drive, wondering who had just emerged from the quiet house. To his great amusement, it was none other than sleeping beauty himself: Ryo.

The boy in question had remained wrapped snugly within the comfort of his bed for most of the morning, in such a deep sleep that not even the early-morning fiasco had wakened him–a miracle in itself. Any other day, he would've been downstairs in an instant, demanding to know what the hell was going on. Now, he emerged from the quiet house both fully conscious and comfortably clothed. He'd pulled on a rumpled sleeveless t-shirt in his favorite color–red, of course–and a pair of old, worn-out blue jeans that had been ripped in both knees. He turned his tanned face up to the sky and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his body drank in the warm sunlight. His prize, a grass-stained soccer ball that his father had given him ages ago, was tucked under one arm, and he'd already pulled his unruly black hair into a ponytail at the nape of his neck; he was ready to play. At his side, his constant companion Whiteblaze was busily eyeing the playful birds flittering around the sky, his feline interests plain.

"It's _alive_," Sage intoned wickedly, grinning as Ryo jumped at the sound of his voice. He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up on his elbows, arching an eyebrow. "Finally decided to drag your lazy ass out of bed, hmm?"

"Oh shut up, Blondie," Ryo retorted with a smirk, and then ducked as Sage tossed a pebble at his head. He chuckled, straightening again once he was sure that Sage was out of ammo. "Can I help it if I had a lot of sleep to catch upon? Even with Rowen's genius tutoring skills, Kibishii's final exam was murder compared to my other classes."

"Excuses, excuses..."

Ryo meandered the few feet over to where Sage was lying and dropped his ball with a light 'thunk,' then plopped down beside the blonde unceremoniously. Leaning back against the tree trunk, he closed his eyes with a relaxed sigh, asking in a curious voice, "So where is everyone? I figured they'd be out here with you."

Sage snorted, laughing to himself as he turned to look at his friend. "You haven't been in the kitchen yet, have you?"

"Uh oh."

"Kento cleaned out the pantry _and_ the fridge last night while he was celebrating the end of term. I'm amazed you slept through Cye's reaction earlier–he went through the roof! I swear to you, he must've chased Kento all around the house at least five times, waving around a spatula and screeching curses at the top of his lungs. I don't know which made it funnier–the fact that he was threatening Kento with a spatula, or that he was wearing those giant pink bunny slippers his sister gave him for his last birthday…"

Ryo's face had split into a huge grin at the image Sage was creating. Kento's nighttime binges were a running legend in the Koji household, and generally involved the infamous human garbage disposal snarfing almost everything in sight somewhere between midnight and 3am. The next morning, upon discovery of the heinous crime, their sweetly tempered auburn-haired friend would go completely ballistic and chase Kento all over the house–usually waving around whichever blunt kitchen utensil came to hand first. Most of the time, Cye would start to calm down after shouting himself hoarse for half an hour, although sometimes they could bribe him with a trip to the grocery store, the alluring promise of stocking up on food calming him even sooner.

Whiteblaze, who had wandered past them to sprawl lazily in the shade of the forest's edge, gave a very cat-like snort. Sometimes, he liked to 'help' the little water Ronin chase their stout perpetrator; it was very funny to see how much faster the outspoken, headstrong boy ran when there was a white tiger snapping at his heels. Of course, he would never _really_ hurt him–just scare him a lot. But Kento didn't need to know that.

"So Cye's gone and dragged Kento off to the grocery store to restock Mia's kitchen. Makes perfect sense," Ryo laughed, falling back onto the grass. "That doesn't explain Rowen's disappearing act."

"The only disappearing act Rowen's pulled today is the one where he went into the library and shut the door. He's probably stockpiling reading material as we speak, so he can hole up in our room for the rest of the summer." Sage rolled his eyes; he could understand their blue-haired friend's love of books, but not even _he_ was interested in reading the entire vacation away.

Ryo groaned as he recalled their previous summer break, when Rowen had turned his half of the bedroom he and Sage shared into his own personal mini-library. "Well, _I'll_ fix that. He can still read, but we didn't decide to spend our summer with Mia just for the books."

With a smirk, Sage stretched out as best he could, sighing with relief as he felt his back pop. "Well then, I guess we'll just have to go inside and drag Rowen's skinny ass out here."

"Sounds like a plan. Shall we?"

The blonde-haired swordsman grinned deviously, his humor sparked. "Why yes, I think we sha... _What in the **hell **is that?_"

Ryo followed his friend's startled gaze, his bright blue eyes widening in shock. As the two teenagers stared, a dark, spinning vortex was beginning to take shape a few yards away from them. It writhed and twisted anxiously as it expanded, easily growing as tall as the first story of the Koji mansion, and Ryo came to realize two very important things in rapid succession–one, that they were watching a gateway between the mortal realm and the nether realm opening up, and two, that something was probably going to come out of it very soon. He jumped to his feet and assumed a defensive stance, followed closely by Sage. Seconds later he could hear Whiteblaze at his back, growling softly at the portal.

As the two Ronins debated the need for their sub armor, four large figures came flying through the vortex, colliding with them a split-second later. Everyone went down in a noisy, tangled heap, with a various collection of painful groans and colorful curses from all sides. For a moment, they all stared at one another, completely dumbfounded. Then...

"Well look who's gone and softened our landing for us," came Sekhmet's amused hiss from his perch on Sage's ribcage. "Just the guys we need to talk to."

Sage coughed, struggling to push the Warlord of Venom off of his vigorously protesting ribs. "Geroffa me!"

"_Mmmfffffffft!"_ Ryo managed to contribute as his face was pressed into the dirt and grass. He tried to wriggle free with limited success until Kayura realized she was sitting on top of him, and quickly scrambled off. Together, she and Dais hauled the fallen Ronin to his feet, where he went to work scrubbing the dirt from his face with a disgusted_, "Blech!"_

"I guess Anubis wasn't joking when he said the Ronins were waiting on the other side of the portal," the priestess commented, her expression rather dazed.

Cale and Sekhmet gripped Sage's arms, pulling him to his feet as well, and Sekhmet turned to grin at her. "Honestly, what can I say? That man always had impeccable aim."

The two Ronins looked at one another, completely nonplussed, with dirt smudged across their cheeks and the bridge of Ryo's nose. It was at that moment that Rowen and Mia came rushing out onto the front lawn, having heard the sudden commotion from inside and come to investigate. Rowen skidded to a stop halfway down the driveway as soon as he got a good look at who their guests were, and for a moment he simply stood there, gaping at them in absolute astonishment. When she saw that he wasn't inclined to move, Mia grabbed his arm and dragged him closer, making the blue-haired boy stumble as his surprised stupor faded. He shuffled his feet, trying to regain his balance.

Ryo stared at Kayura in confusion. "Good aim? Anubis? Lady Kayura, what's going on? What are you guys doing here?"

Kayura frowned as she tried to find a way to explain their predicament, but it was Dais who spoke up first. He gripped the fire Ronin's shoulder firmly and steered him towards the house, his good eye serious. "This is something that would be better discussed _indoors_. We have a lot to talk about."

"He's right," Mia jumped in, the sound of her voice drawing everyone's attention. It was her home, after all, and she felt it was her duty to play the part of the good hostess. She beckoned to Kayura and the three Warlords politely, smiling. "Please, come inside. I've already put on a pot of fresh tea. Guys, why don't you show them into the living room where there's room to sit comfortably."

Cale glanced around the front yard, his forehead creasing in thought. "Wait a minute... we're missing a couple of people. Where are Hardrock and Torrent? Normally, Hardrock would be out here at the first whiff of trouble."

"They both went into town earlier to buy food," Sage replied with a tiny smirk as he turned to walk back towards the house. "Come on, let's go inside."

Ryo shook his head as they all followed after Sage. "We can fill them in whenever they get back. I don't think this is news that can wait." Especially when he wanted to know what was going on_ now.  
_

* * *

When Mia brought in the tea tray, loaded down with extra cups for their guests, as well as containers of sugar and milk, she noticed that everyone had already settled on the two couches arranged on opposite ends of her long, varnished wooden coffee table, with Whiteblaze snoozing peacefully at Ryo's feet. The two armchairs were vacant, and the television set in the corner had been turned off, although Cale and Sekhmet were eyeing its dark screen with some curiosity. She smiled to herself in amusement, guessing that neither of the former Dark Warlords had ever seen a TV before, and placed the heavy tray on top of the coffee table. She'd already prepared a cup for herself, as well as three others for Ryo, Sage, and Rowen, so she handed them to their respective owners before looking at Kayura. 

"How do you take your tea?"

The priestess smiled and shook her head. "Please, don't trouble yourself–we can fix our own. Why don't you sit down, Miss Koji?"

Mia nodded and moved to claim her favorite of the two overstuffed armchairs, leaning back and sipping her tea as Kayura and the Warlords began preparing cups for themselves. Dais, Cale, and Sekhmet were laughing as Rowen launched into a comical explanation of why Cye and Kento were away buying groceries, and even Kayura had allowed a small chuckle to escape. Mia smiled, her eyes moving around the large room for a second time, carefully taking in the things she'd missed before. The Ancient's staff was leaning against the wall nearby, within easy reach should there be any unexpected trouble, and Kayura's and the Warlords' thick winter cloaks were nowhere in sight... although she suspected that if she opened the coat closet in the hallway she would find all four of them tucked away neatly.

Her inspection was interrupted as Lady Kayura cleared her throat, and the low murmur of voices slowly died down as all eyes came to rest on her. First, she glanced at her companions, then her gaze shifted to Mia and the three Ronin Warriors, who were seated comfortably across the coffee table. "I suppose some explaining is in order–what's going on in the nether realm, why we arrived here without warning..."

It was what they had been waiting to hear. Ryo, Rowen, and Sage put down their teacups, eyes and ears alert as they focused on the priestess.

"When we returned to the nether realm two years ago it was in a state of utter chaos. With the sudden fall of the Dynasty, the power structure of the realm fell apart and there was a desperate scramble for Talpa's old throne. Anything and everything with half a mind and a smidgeon of power wanted to become the new ruler. Since the nether realm is a place where evil dwells, there has always been a certain level of unrest, but before, no one dared to revolt," she said, her pleasant alto voice low and steady.

"Talpa ruled with an iron fist," Dais added, sipping his tea. "He had a massive army, as you probably remember, and he was incredibly powerful during his ruling days. While he was in control, many considered him to be a god, because he had never been defeated by any of his challengers."

The priestess nodded her agreement, smoothly picking up where Dais left off. "His old castle became our new headquarters, and as soon as the rest of the realm learned of our presence, we became the most immediate threat. It was one attack after another, completely relentless. The castle turned out to be our main advantage–we knew it better than anyone else, and as long as we were inside we could withstand any assault of siege for as long as there was a need."

"And until today, there hasn't been any threat we couldn't handle," Sekhmet interrupted, making a disgusted noise. "That's the reason we're here now."

Rowen leaned forward, his intelligent blue eyes intense as they soaked up all of this new information. He brushed his hair out of his eyes, looking back at Kayura curiously. "So what happened today?

Lady Kayura rolled her eyes and placed her empty teacup on the tea tray. "To the north of our castle is a large expanse of dark forests known as Shadow Haven. Even during Talpa's reign, it was never completely under his control, and anyone he sent there–soldiers, priests, sorcerers–never came back. Over the last two centuries, something within Shadow Haven has been giving off sporadic bursts of energy, each larger and more powerful than the last. Today, I discovered the source of this power–a shadow mage by the name of Damagi, who is much older than Talpa and apparently quite a bit stronger. It turns out that he's been preparing a massive revolt, and I was certain that he'd come to claim Talpa's old throne... but I was sure we would have a couple of weeks to prepare, because his army couldn't move _that _quickly. But I misjudged him."

"While we were in one of the towers–discussing this new problem, ironically enough–one of Damagi's underlings managed to sneak into the castle. I'm not sure _how_ he got in undetected, but we turned around and there he was... standing in the doorway as if he owned the place," Dais continued as he took over Kayura's explanations. The pale-haired man scowled at the disagreeable memory as he settled back in his seat. "Zandri is an ice mage. We four know him from a previous encounter, when he used to work for Talpa. He's a complete ass."

Ryo frowned suddenly. "Zandri? That's not familiar... if he worked for Talpa, where was he during the war?"

"That's simple," Sekhmet replied in a very sour voice. "Zandri pulled a disappearing act on the Dynasty shortly before Talpa went to war with the mortal realm. The last anyone ever saw of him, he was heading north towards Shadow Haven. We had all _assumed_ that he was dead... until he popped up today, looking much too alive for my taste."

The Warlord of Illusion grimaced, nodding in agreement. "Before he attacked us, Zandri threw something at our feet. It looked like a cube of crystal ice, but when it shattered on the floor it released a strange mist into the air. The mist surrounded us, then disappeared a few seconds later. Zandri said it was a 'present' from Damagi, to all of us... including you Ronins. And shortly after that, we realized that we were unable to call our sub armor."

"_What?"_

The three teenagers shared very uncomfortable looks with one another, each of them wondering the same thing: Would their own armor fail them now? It was a frightening thought.

"Have any of you felt anything strange today? A loss in power, perhaps?" Kayura asked urgently, sitting forward and twisting her hands in her lap. Her face fell as Ryo, Sage, and Rowen all began to shake their heads.

After a moment of consideration, Ryo fished something small and round out of one pocket–his red armor orb. All eyes were on him. As his fingers closed around its cool, smooth surface, he began to concentrate, trying to summon his sub armor as he had hundreds of times in the past. His grip tightened as he felt a brief flicker of power, weaker than a candle caught in a windstorm, but the tiny flame fizzled and went out. The dark-haired boy loosened his hold on the orb, visibly shaken by the failure.

"I... I can't call it..."

One after the other, Sage and Rowen each brought out their own armor orbs, repeating Ryo's experiment for themselves, wanting to deny that the armors would no longer work. One after the other, each set of sub armor failed to materialize.

The living room was quiet for several moments as everyone absorbed this new turn of events, until Ryo broke the eerie silence. Grim-faced, he looked at the priestess and the three serious looking Warlords. "What happened when Zandri attacked? Since the mystical armors weren't an option, was it the Ancient's staff that saved the day?"

"I wish I could say that it did," Lady Kayura murmured, glancing sideways at the golden staff for a moment. "But the credit for our rescue really belongs to Anubis, or at least his spirit. I heard his voice and then a giant whirlwind rose up in the middle of the room, taking out Zandri's attack and shielding us from him at the same time. I'm sure that I saw him inside the whirlwind, just before we were pushed into the dimensional portal. The rest... well, you know."

Sage pocketed his lifeless green armor orb, gazing at everyone around him. "Where do we go from here? If we can't call on the armors for help..."

"We wait and see what Damagi's next move will be. Since whatever Zandri did was intended to affect your armor as well, I'm sure that the shadow mage has some sort of plan for the mortal realm, as well as taking over the nether realm," Dais replied, fixing his stern gaze on the blonde. "With or without the armor, we must do what we can to stop him."

Ryo stood up, challenging Dais' stubborn look with one of his own, his blue eyes hard and fiercely determined. Slowly, he turned his stare on Cale, Sekhmet, and Kayura, making sure that they each understood his seriousness. "We _will_ fight, no matter what's happened to the armors. It's our responsibility to protect the mortal realm, and the people in it. You guys won't be going this one alone, I can promise you that."

Sage and Rowen were both nodding along with his words, their own faces as stubborn as his.

As the atmosphere in the room began to lift, Mia decided to add, "And in the meantime, we'll do what we can to reverse whatever this Zandri guy did to the mystical armors. Surely with our combined efforts, we'll be able to find a solution soon."

"You're right," Kayura agreed, a smile easing her troubled features. "And we still have the Ancient's staff."

Mia slid out of her chair and began to collect the empty teacups, listening with half an ear as Ryo began questioning Sekhmet and Cale about this ice mage, Zandri. She smiled as she thought of something else, and turned to look at Lady Kayura.

"You know, it's probably not safe for you guys to return to the nether realm right now. You're all more than welcome to stay here. Ryo and the others have already made arrangements with their families to stay with me over the summer, so everyone would be together. And there's plenty of room–it wouldn't be any trouble. Please stay."

The priestess blinked; she had been helping collect teacups, and was caught off guard by Mia's friendly offer. She glanced at her three companions for a moment, unsure of what to say, but before she could think of a reply there was a flurry of noise in the front hallway. A few moments later, Cye poked his head into the living room, his face full of good humor now that the kitchen could be restocked.

"Hello everyone! We're ba... Oh hello, I didn't know we had gue... wait a minute... Lady Kayura? Dais? Sekhmet? And Cale? What in the world are you four doing here?" the soft-spoken boy exclaimed in obvious surprise, his blue-green eyes growing round.

Before anyone could come up with a good response, Kento walked into the room, carrying a full bag of groceries in each arm. "Hey, why don't you slackers come and help unloa... _**Hey!** What are you guys doing here?"_ he shouted, his first thought quickly forgotten.

Ryo and the others traded significant looks, and Cale scratched the back of his head, looking quite bemused.

"Well... that's a long story."

* * *

_Read and review, please._


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